


i fucking hate you

by kiyotakatanaka



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-03
Updated: 2015-06-03
Packaged: 2018-04-02 17:32:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4068559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiyotakatanaka/pseuds/kiyotakatanaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>i wrote this uckfcign shit on my Phone in the Metro in the Fucking Morning please end it</p>
            </blockquote>





	i fucking hate you

He's terrified of dying. He always has been, but now, more than ever, he's terrified of dying unfulfilled. He's terrified that all of this work he's put forth, all of this progress hes made to better humanity, will be lost with his final breath. 

He's even moreso terrified when it's his nemesis who has him on the ground, pointing that weapon he had made specifically to fight him at his battered form. Viktor doesn't want to die. Not now, and not ever. If he is to die, gods forbid, he never wants Jayce to have the pride in knowing it was he who had slain this pitiful man. He would much rather die in an idiotic accident than die to this damned hammer that's being pointed at him.

He feels his chest rise and fall with the deep breaths he's taking, and he feels his throat dry up when he opens his mouth up even slightly to speak. To plead for his life. To discard all pride he holds dear to himself in exchange for more time in this dreadful realm.

He takes a few moments. He breathes. 

Jayce's hand twitches. He flinches.

He's pathetic. So, so very pathetic. 

He takes another breath, this one heavier than the last. He looks at Jayce's face, and all he sees is exhaustion and anger, and what he swears to be a small tinge of regret. He continues to look at him, establishes eye contact, whatever that could mean considering the machine herald wears a mask most of the time, and begins to speak. He knows what to say, and how to say it. He's dealt with this situation before, and the amount of times he has is simply pathetic.

"Stop."

It's choked out. His throat is dry and he can feel a lump forming inside. He quickly swallows it down and continues. 

"Think about this for a moment. Are you sure of yourself."

He only now notices that he's trembling. He hadn't felt it before, but only now that he's speaking, that he's bargaining for his life does he truly notice it. 

Jayce's hand twitches again and Viktor flinches. He can almost hear Jayce laughing. 

"What will happen after you kill me. Think of the consequences of your actions. Surely, you know that if I die, the evolution shall still thrive, yes? My followers shall only continue what I was not able to complete. You believe that Piltover will be safe when, in the end, it won't be. By killing me, you're going to endanger everything and everyone--"

"Shut up!"

Jayce shouts. Viktor flinches. 

He's still at the defender of tomorrow's mercy. He could kill him at any moment. He stares at his enemy, and his enemy glares back at him.

"You're acting out of emotion."

"I said shut up!"

The barrel of a feat in engineering is now pressed against his chest, and he chokes on whatever words he was going to say. He hears the low hum of a shot being charged and he knows if he had a heart, it would be pounding against his ribs, screaming, screaming for him to run, screaming and howling for him to at least try and escape his fate. 

He takes a breath, short and panicked, and grabs at the hammer, holding it against his chest and staring Jayce in the eyes. He feels tears forming, that weakness that he wants to remove, to purge from his being, and he hisses, tone defying everything that his body language is screeching.

"Do it." 

He's shaking and he's grabbing that damn hammer with all of his strength and pulling it against his chest and he's positive that he's crying now. 

"Do it!"

He barks. 

"Do it! Stop prolonging the inevitable! Finish me off! Finish your damned deed and end it all right now!"

He knows he's getting out of this. He knows he's getting out of this with a shattered ego and his life.  
The humming slowly dies down, and his chest is tight. He still holds that weapon to his chest and he definitely feels tears rolling down his cheeks. He thanks the gods silently that Jayce cannot see him crying. 

"Let go of my hammer."

The Zaunite does as he's told, releasing the weapon. Jayce quickly raises it, holding it like he normally would, and stares at Viktor for a few moments, before pointing towards the gates to Piltover's entrance.

"Leave. Now. Before I change my mind."

The machine herald wastes no time getting up, reaching for the third arm that had been broken off of his shoulder earlier on in their fight, grabbing it, then walking over to pick up his staff. He prays that it's not damaged, checking the core that crackles with magical energy at the top, and sighing in relief as he notes that, thank the gods, it isn't.

He glances over at Jayce, who was standing as if he was guarding something, and he barks one last thing at him.

"I shall return."

With that, he turns on his heel and walks off as well as he can manage, using his staff as a support.

As soon as he has repaired himself, he will return.

**Author's Note:**

> [2015-05-14 12:07:31 PM] Irving McAllister: d id u like it  
> [2015-05-14 12:07:49 PM] molly: I LOVE IT  
> [2015-05-14 12:07:51 PM] Irving McAllister: o H  
> [2015-05-14 12:07:54 PM] Irving McAllister: DIES SOFTLY  
> [2015-05-14 12:12:25 PM] molly: jayce goes home and drinks that night, knowing he’s going to regret that. one of the few times he finally has that bastard on the ground, at his will, at his mercy, begging for his fucking life and he doesn’t know what to do. He’s torn, he’s confused and conflicted and they’ve been at it for so long he’s unsure what he’d even do after. after killing viktor. the thought itself is so fucking ridiculous in his own mind, and he wonders if he’s been sabotaging himself all those years, or something.  
> but viktor’s on the ground and he is crying and his accent’s almost too thick to understand and it’s pathetic and jayce can feel himself sneering. he wants to kick the man beneath him, like a rat like a dog like a beast, but he’s crying and fucking begging, how often is it that Viktor’s the one to beg? and it feels good and dark and dirty and fucking spectacular and this? This isn’t how Jayce wants it to end. despite everything, viktor doesn’t deserve to die like a whining, whimpering animal at his mercy.  
> So jayce lets him go. He lets the man (the machine) go, lets him live to come back and fight another day. and he knows he’ll regret it for the rest of his fucking life.  
> [2015-05-14 12:12:31 PM] molly: okay sorry got that out of my system


End file.
